“Liked the jewelry, did you?”
“What woman wouldn’t? Especially that necklace. But it wasn’t just the stones themselves, it was the romance of it. A wedding present from a king to his queen. The legend of happily-ever-after attached to it. The diamonds and rubies themselves were just part of the whole.” She shook her head, still awestruck. “Amazing.”
Behind Vance, the crazed three-year-old was shouting about cake and his parents were quietly telling him to use his inside voice. Vance wasn’t sure the kid had an inside voice and if he did, whether it would be heard in the cacophony of sound.
Keeping his voice as low as he could and still be heard, he leaned toward Charlie and caught her gaze with his.
“How’d you get interested in auctions? I mean, I was born into it. What’s your reason?”
The waitress showed up with two coffees and a small dish of fresh fruit. As Charlie cut the pieces of cantaloupe, watermelon and grapes into even tinier pieces for her son, she started talking.
“In college I went to a few auctions with friends.” She lifted her gaze to his. “Nothing like the ones we hold at Waverly’s, of course. These were more country auctions, selling crates of mystery goods or farm equipment, some furniture and antiques. But the feeling was the same, if you know what I mean. The sense of anticipation—people hoping to find something special. Maybe buying a painting for a dollar and discovering an old master under an ugly dog playing poker—”
He laughed.
Charlie shrugged and said, “It was everything. The auctioneer, the crowds, the bidding. I loved all of it. So when my grandmother died—”
“Your grandmother?”
She stopped and he read hesitation in her eyes as she bit at her bottom lip. He knew she hadn’t meant to say that and his curiosity was piqued.
“My grandmother raised me,” she said briefly then hurried on. “Anyway, when she died, I packed up and moved to New York. Two years ago, I got a job at Waverly’s. I started out in HR, but worked my way up, and now I work for the boss.”
He laughed. “One of the bosses, anyway.”
“Why did you take us to dinner?” Charlie asked suddenly. She smoothed wisps of light brown hair off her son’s forehead and said, “I can’t imagine you’ve been dying to have dinner with a bunch of screaming kids.” Her eyes widened as she looked past him. “Oops.”
Vance felt someone watching him and slowly turned his head to meet the three-year-old screamer’s big, dark eyes. The boy was hanging over the back of the bench seat, watching him intently. Vance stared right back at him. When the boy stuck out his tongue, Charlie laughed and Vance winced.
“Trevor!” the boy’s mother snapped, and dragged him back down to his seat. “Sorry,” she murmured.
Shaking his head, Vance turned back to Charlie. “Clearly the evil Boss Stare doesn’t work on kids,” he muttered, then looked into her eyes. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“Would it be wrong to say yes?”
“Yes, it would.”
Soberly, she nodded. “Then no, I don’t like it at all. It’s absolutely terrible how you’re suffering.”
He gave her a rueful smile. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d been teased. Usually people—women—were wary around him. They spoke softly and moved slowly, as if he were a live grenade about to go off. Not Charlie. And while he never wanted to see this diner again, he was actually having a good time.
Something he hadn’t expected. He’d only thought about how to get her talking. To spilling secrets, if she had any. But if she had those secrets, they were still her own. Which meant that he’d be spending more time with her.
A plan he didn’t have a problem with.
When her son rubbed at his eyes with tiny fists, Charlie said, “I have to get him home to bed.”
“It’s barely eight.”
Tipping her head to look at him, she said, “Babies go to bed earlier than we do.”
“Oh, right.” Idiot. He signaled the waitress for the bill and took care of it while Charlie cleaned up her son. Once they were ready, he stood up and Charlie lifted the little boy from the high chair.
Instantly, Jake held out both pudgy arms to Vance.
Vance stared at the boy for a long moment. The baby’s hair was practically standing on end. There was a food stain on his I love Mommy T-shirt. And his dark blue eyes were fixed on Vance as if he were Santa and the Easter Bunny rolled into one. He’d never been around babies much and hadn’t really missed the experience. Until tonight, Vance would have said he had zero interest in kids altogether.
But this baby seemed … different, somehow. Certainly quieter than the other kids in the diner. It was younger, softer and it had a dimple in its left cheek, just like its mother.
“Jake …” Charlie was clearly surprised by her son’s move and, frankly, so was Vance. But who was he to argue? He reached for the boy, tucked him against his chest and headed for the front door, Charlie trailing behind.
The baby laid his head down on Vance’s shoulder and, despite his best efforts, something inside Vance melted.
“I cannot believe I had to hear this from Justin! Did you lose your phone again?”
“No,” Charlie said, laughing. “I haven’t lost my phone in almost two years, thanks. And I was going to tell you but—”
“You were too busy dating your boss?”
Charlie had a feeling that Katie’s stunned expression was probably an echo of her own. Heck, she had lived through last night and she was still feeling the shock. After dinner the night before, Vance had hailed a cab to take Jake and her home. The surprise was when Vance had joined them for the trip.
Jake had fallen asleep on the way home, cuddled comfortably against Vance’s broad chest. Though she’d offered to take the baby from him, Vance had held the boy all the way to her apartment. And for a moment or two, Charlie had actually been envious of her son.
Being with Vance in the quiet of the cab had been … nice. They talked as the city whizzed past in a stream of subdued noise and neon color and when they were finally at the small apartment she called home, Vance had walked her to her door, handed Jake to her and said good-night.
“I can’t believe this,” Katie was saying in an awed, hushed tone. “You do know the whole building’s talking about this.”
“Thank you, Justin,” Charlie said on a sigh.
“Well, even if he hadn’t told, you never could have kept this a secret for long. You have to know that.”
“I suppose so.” She frowned and said, “I don’t think Vance even cares if people know.”
“Vance?” Katie repeated that one word in a dumbfounded tone. “You call him Vance?”
“‘Mr. Waverly’ seemed a little formal for a date.”
Her friend shook her head slowly. “A date. With your boss.”
“Are you getting past that anytime soon?”
“I don’t think so,” Katie admitted, then shifted on the stone bench to look at her. “Did he kiss you?”
Charlie’s mind slipped back to the night before. When her apartment door was open and the light from inside was slanted across Vance’s face as he looked down at her. There had been a sort of expectant hush hanging in the air between them. He bent down, she leaned in toward him and for one